


Exposed

by gracediamondsfear



Category: Dramione - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Collars, D/s, Exposure, F/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Pole Dancing, Public Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 09:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16531490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracediamondsfear/pseuds/gracediamondsfear
Summary: Draco and Hermione are on Vacation in Vegas...But Draco's bad little kitten has been caught misbehaving and now she has to suffer a delicious punishment.Thanks to the anonymous tumblr poster who sent me a prompt "Sex in front of/by a mirror". I was stuck in writing some pretty heavy stuff for my WIPs so I wanted to take a break and have some fun.  Feel free to send me prompts or tropes on tumblr, I'd be happy to consider them!





	Exposed

She’d misbehaved that evening. There was no arguing it, even though it had all been completely innocent, truly an honest mistake. It hadn’t even been a sly attempt to bait his inherent jealousy, something he would have caught on to right away.

They were on vacation in Vegas, Draco seeing the electric wonderland of sin for the first time and he’d instantly fallen in love. He drank in the excess and decadence like a man dying of thirst. He loved the sounds, the feel of the chips in his hand, the games of chance…the risk. There were few things he loved more in the world than risk. 

Hermione had convinced him to go dancing with her, dragging him down into a dark, low ceilinged club, pulsing with music and lights, lined with velvet booths and filled with platforms, poles and cages for dancers to show off their particular skills for the crowd. Draco had quickly grown tired of mingling on the dance floor - too many drunk, sweaty muggles touching his hair - so she’d left him sitting, sprawled like a panther on a black velvet sofa while she made her way to one of the silver poles. He smiled and raised his champagne glass, nodding his approval. She was beautiful in her short, tight, gunmetal dress that draped and clung to her curves like quicksilver, her thin black leather collar standing out against the creamy skin of her slender neck. Her black heels, three inches high with criss-crossing straps up her ankle kicked out the curves of her calves perfectly as she wrapped her leg around the pole. Her performance was working perfectly and he had to adjust the way he was sitting in order to hide it.

The music pounded loud in her ears, the air filled with flickering lights and smoke and the scent of sweat and cologne and sex and she quickly lost herself in the dance, writhing and twisting, her head thrown back, eyes closed, skin damp with sweat. She was thinking of him entirely, his hands, his mouth, the fun they’d had earlier in the day at the hotel. As she danced she felt hands on her hips; strong, warm hands pulling her back against a hard body, grinding into her. Without thinking she raised her arms up and back, around the man’s neck. Long hair. Long, wavy hair and a scratchy, stubble covered cheek. She opened her eyes to see Draco staring, his eyes burning, one eyebrow arched high, his mouth a tight line…perhaps waiting to see what she would do next. She froze with the man still pushing against her and stared back, her eyes wide as Draco simply shook his head…no. 

Hermione instantly pulled away from the stranger, shoving him a bit too hard from the platform and stumbling back down to where Draco sat, casually sipping champagne, looking somewhere over her shoulder as she approached. She rushed to his side, pulling his hand to her lips, kissing the M signet ring, holding his warm palm to her cheek. He wasn’t looking at her. His face was…bored.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I thought…I’m so sorry.”

Finally he turned his eyes back to her and she could see they were softer, his lips turned into a tiny, almost pitying smile. He stroked her damp hair and curled his long fingers around her throat, just below her jaw…a gesture she’d always taken comfort in.

“I know little kitten.” He kissed her forehead and put his lips to her ear, the tone of his words firm and icy, sending a shiver through her blood. “It’s time to go home.”

 

Now, as they rode the elevator up to their suite she could see the smug, calculating sneer on his face, his fingers slowly undoing the buttons on the cuffs of his shirt and rolling the sleeves up. She knew it was going to be a long night.

 

 

“You look a little pale,” he said, holding his hand out to graciously allow her to step off the elevator first.

“I’m fine, sir. Thank you,” she said, immediately reaching down to undo the buckles on her shoes. His normal protocol on these trips was for her to strip as soon as they were alone. Now she felt his hand on her back, between her shoulders.

“Ah ah…leave them for now,” he said, walking past her into the sumptuous four room suite overlooking the strip.

She stood meekly by the front entrance, awaiting instruction while Draco moved to the wide floor to ceiling windows, pulling the heavy draperies open. It was night and the light of the room made the glass appear as reflective as a mirror, showing Hermione standing by the door, her head bowed, her hands folded behind her back. He wanted so desperately to just pull her into his arms, to tumble into bed and hold her and tell her how beautiful she was, how happy he made her…

But it would have to wait. Because he’d learned long ago that if there was one thing Hermione Granger needed- It was discipline.

 

 

She didn’t dare move from her spot without permission but followed every movement, every word he spoke like a hawk, watching as he pulled a chair from behind a desk and set it in front of the window then carefully unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, letting it hang open, untucked from his black trousers. He lit a cigarette (another risky muggle vice he’d come to enjoy on occasion) and leaned against the window again, clucking his tongue at her.

“What a naughty girl you’ve been, my kitten,” he said, shaking his head. “Showing yourself off to other men, rutting your wet little pussy against them when you know very well that it belongs to me.”

Of course she was expert at playing the part, her eyes wide and apologetic, and indeed she felt terrible for even temporarily, accidentally touching another man…but his words, his admonishment was triggering a heavy heat between her legs, a prickling on the back of her neck and she wanted to run to him, to press against his bare chest, to kiss him, knee in front of him. But the terms of this weekend had been agreed upon before they left London. She was to submit to him entirely, from the moment they left their flat, and while she’d given him a short list of things she was entirely uncomfortable doing, she’d asked him specifically to challenge her…push her…test the limits she thought she had. It seemed now he was quite intent on doing so. 

“I’m so sorry sir. I thought it was you,” she said. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at being mistaken for some sweaty, unkempt beach bum. “It was a mistake. I promise you.”

“Oh I know darling, I do. But if we continue to let you get away with these…mistakes…you’re never going to learn, are you?” He crossed the room to stand in front of her, his hand sliding down the side of her dress, quickly rucking the skirt up above her hips, exposing her black lace panties and giving her ass a quick slap. “It’s strange to me that you would make such a mistake since, if I remember correctly, kitten, being exposed in public was one of your…fears…was it not?”

His voice was velvety in her ear as he slipped his fingers inside her panties, finding her already dripping, already hot and open for him. She rocked forward against his hand and he pulled away, licking his fingers clean.

“And now it seems you’re turned on by it. Filthy little slut.” He pinched her ass cheek hard enough to leave a bruise and she yelped. “Apologize to me again, pet,” he said softly, taking another drag off of his cigarette and slowly blowing the smoke over her head.

She took his hand in hers and lifted the ring to her lips, kissing the silver M before looking into his eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I misbehaved. I know I did. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Finally he smiled, but not in a way that would bring anyone any sort of comfort. It was a smile of victory, scheming and calculative; of course she would make it up to him. That was the whole point of this little exercise. He tucked her hair back behind her ears, letting the long wavy strands fall down her back and then stepped away, leaning against the back of the white sofa in the middle of the room. 

“Go sit in front of the window,” he said. When she made a move to pull her skirt down he growled. “Were you told to adjust your dress?”

She pulled the skirt back up over her hips and walked to the chair, straight backed, black. It was only a foot or so from the window and she could see herself in the reflection looking disheveled, wilted, her hair limp and damp with sweat, her makeup faded, lipstick gone and of course, her dress, her panties exposed to whomever may have been glancing up towards the seventh floor at that moment. She had a lump in her throat as she realized that she probably wouldn’t be wearing much of anything soon.

“My beautiful girl. Tell me, do you think you look beautiful right now?” He asked.

He already knew that she didn’t. He knew that she hated looking at herself, her body. She just barely accepted the few pictures he’d taken of her in some of his better rope work because the shots had been “artistic”, but otherwise all she focused on were her perceived flaws, her scars, the evidence of her life having been lived, the relics of her strength and courage..she thought them ugly. He worshipped them.

“No sir,” she said, lowering her head. He always demanded honesty and she found it almost impossible to lie to him.

“Someday, kitten. Someday you’ll see what I see.”

He stood then and crushed out the remains of his cigarette, moving to stand behind her, his hands on her shoulders, laying light kisses along the side of her neck. She watched him in the reflection, his snow white hair, his long fingers holding her arms, his lips against her skin. His eyes flicked up to catch hers in the window and he bit down into her skin, making her gasp.

“Mmmm,” he said, laving the bite with his tongue before stepping back. “I love that sound. Take off your dress good girl,” he said, crossing his arms.

 

 

He didn’t tower over her in height, but his presence behind her was gigantic. He held himself with limitless confidence and strength and it made her hotter than anything else he did…his dominance over everything…not just her. It was the way he could stand out amongst a group of people without saying a word, his eyes and his calm, insistent stare. When he spoke, his words were soft and even, demanding that his listeners lean in, held rapt in order to hear the words. Staring into his eyes now, she saw them soften for a brief moment, seeing her hesitation.

“Hermione?” This was his check. If he used her real name it was an opportunity to back out, to tell him she was too uncomfortable, too frightened to strip in front of a window seven floors up from the street. His fingers were touching the clasp on the back of her collar, the bone at the top of her spine. He drew lines over her shoulders to soothe her. 

“I’m sorry sir,” she said, reassuring him. “I got distracted looking at your reflection.” She smiled then and he rolled his eyes at her.

“Go on then. Dress off.”

 

 

He stepped away to watch her bend her arms back like bird wings, pulling at the zipper to loosen the dress. She slipped her arms from the tiny straps and the dress fell to her hips, exposing her breasts to the cool air, her nipples tightening instantly, dark and rosy. She heard his hum of approval and continued, pushing the dress down to puddle at her feet. All that was left were her black lace panties and her shoes. Draco stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck. His hands moved to cup her breasts, massaging them, pinching and twisting her nipples until she whimpered with pain and arousal, hissing at the ache when he let go, the blood rushing back, lighting up her nerves.

He nudged her towards the chair and indicated she should sit, facing out, her knees nearly touching the glass, nowhere to look except at herself. Behind her, Draco pulled off his shirt completely, folding it in half and laying it neatly over the back of the sofa. He slipped out of his shoes, unbuckled his belt and pulled it free, coiling it up and laying it on the bed. Perhaps they would use it later.

“Eyes front, kitten,” he said, seeing that she was watching him instead of looking at herself as he intended. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

She did as she was told, tipping her head to look at how the lights of the city mingled with the reflection of her own skin, her bare breasts a bit asymmetrical, her scarred stomach. Bright, colored lights, money and fashion and jewelry: all a loud distraction to the pain underneath. She wasn’t enjoying her punishment as much as she’d thought she would. 

“You’re thinking too much again,” he said to her, his hands on her shoulders. “I can always tell because you tip your head to the side like a puppy and you get this wrinkle between your eyebrows.” 

He kissed the top of her head and then her neck, her shoulder, his hands sliding down to her thighs, spreading her legs wide. She tensed beneath him and he soothed her with his lips, his hands working up towards her center, the black lace that hid her from him.

“Watch,” he purred in her ear as he pulled the tiny gusset of her panties to the side, two of his pale slim fingers sliding through her wetness, her back arching away from him. “You say you’re afraid, but being afraid gets you going, kitten. You’re practically dripping down my hand, love.”

He stroked her slowly, his two fingers sliding down either side of her hardened clit before dipping inside for a brief moment. She moaned and twisted as he held himself just far enough away to keep her from grinding against him.

“Take these off. I want all those people out there to see you come for me, kitten. I want them to see your glistening wet cunt swallow up my fingers, yeah? You want them to see that, don’t you?” He was kissing her back, her neck, his wet fingers playing over her nipples. “Don’t you, love?” 

“Yes…” she whined, reaching back to sink her fingers into his hair, to feel his skin, his arms, his jaw. “Yes sir.”

She slipped the panties down to her ankles and kicked them off to the side, not waiting for his instruction to spread her legs wide, her entire body exposed not only to the world, but herself. She looked up to see him watching her face, his eyes flashing with lust, his mouth latched to her neck.

“Feel how wet you are for me, kitten,” he whispered in her ear. “Let me see you fuck yourself.”

“I’d rather have you do it, sir...” she said quietly, her hand still in his hair. She did her best to sound coy and seductive but he’d been with her long enough to know she was stalling. His eyes went dark in an instant and he bit down into the tendon on the side of her neck. Tears sprung to Hermione’s eyes from the pain and she quickly apologized.

“For what?” He asked, his hands holding tight to both of her wrists, ready to punish her further if necessary.

“For hesitating, sir.”

“And?”

“For trying to…trick you.”

“Good girl,” he said, releasing her wrists. “Now do what you’re told.”

 

Keeping her eyes on Draco, she slid her hand between her legs, spreading herself open with two fingers, stroking her clit with a third. She was indeed wetter than she’d anticipated and every touch of her fingertip sent a jolt through her blood. Seeing him stare at her with insatiable hunger gave her impetus to perform better and she sunk two fingers inside of herself, her back arching off the chair, her knees hitting the window. Her breath came faster. Draco ran his fingers through her hair, pulling her head back to kiss her hard on the mouth, his tongue slipping hot over hers as her hand moved faster, her hips rolling and bucking against her fingers.

“Would you like my help, kitten?” He said against her mouth. His words were ragged and breathless…she knew that he was desperate to touch her, to fuck her, and just knowing it pushed her even closer to the edge.

“Yes sir, please,” she said.

In an instant he was in front of her, kneeling on the floor between her legs, his tongue plunging into her as he threw her thighs over his shoulders. She held his face against her as he sucked her clit between his lips, groaning, his fingers holding her open.

“Oh fuck Draco…I can’t wait..I’m…”

He ignored her mistake of using his name, far too enthralled by her pussy, her legs trembling against his ears. He looked up at the beautiful agony on her flushed face and with another lash of his tongue she cried out, her whole body jerking and stiffening beneath him, her feet braced against the window. After a moment she went limp and silent, catching her breath, and he pulled away, kissing her thighs and her stomach, up to her chest and finally her mouth.

“Good girl. Such a good, beautiful girl for me,” he whispered. “Almost done.”

She barely had time to think before he’d pulled her from the chair and pushed her against the window face first, easily spreading her legs with one of his own. Holding her still with one hand deep in her hair, she heard him unbuttoning his trousers, his breath heavy and fast in her ear. She stared out at the glittering skyline, looked down at the masses of people milling in the streets, the glass cool against her cheek.

He gripped her hip and drove into her in one thrust, the two of them groaning in unison as he sunk into her heat. Instantly she felt another orgasm slowly building as he thrust into her, their breath fogging the window. His rhythm was slow, agonizing, pulling out completely and then driving in hard, grinding against her ass, his hand finding her clit, circling it until she began to whine, her palms damp with sweat, sliding down the window pane.

“Are they all watching you get fucked, kitten?” He breathed. “Spread out and impaled on my cock?”

He moved faster, an arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her against his chest as he hammered against her, his thrusts quick and erratic as he neared his own climax. She shook in his arms, pushing back, crying out his name again as they both came, her breasts pressed against the glass.

 

 

Afterwards he’d run her a bath, carrying her into the marble tiled room and setting her in the water, tenderly washing her hair while she soaked in the lavender scented bubbles.

“I honestly had no idea he wasn’t you,” she said quietly, splashing water over her face to clear away the remains of her makeup. 

“I know that,” he said, pouring a cup of warm water over her scalp. “But I have to work with what you give me, darling. You aren’t really the misbehaving type.”

She smiled at him and he bent down to kiss her mouth.

 

 

“I can’t believe I did that,” she said as he wrapped her in a thick white robe, giving her a towel to wrap her hair. “I can’t believe YOU did that,” she added, nodding at the black chair still in front of the window. 

Draco was already in bed, the sheet tucked around his waist as he flipped through a book she’d recommended on Nordic Runes. He looked up at her and smiled, his cheeks pink, lip tight as if he were trying not to laugh.

“What? You know how uncomfortable that makes me. It was a big risk, Draco.” She climbed into bed beside him, leaning forward for him to unclasp the collar that she’d put back on in the morning. “What are you grinning about?”

He shook his head, still smiling, then did his best to adopt a serious tone. 

“No, you’re entirely right. I’m very proud of you for stepping past one of your fears, Granger. And you’re very right, it would have been a huge risk.”

“Would’ve…”

“If the windows weren’t tinted on the outside.”

 

She stared at him, dumbfounded, a wave of relief washing over her. She’d been proud of herself at the time for facing up to something that frightened her, but had worried after the fact that they’d end up on some website somewhere…worse, that a wizard had seen them and all of the Ministry would know before long. Perhaps he'd taught her another lesson along the way...that she needed to trust him not to go too far.

“You sneaky little prick,” she said, crawling over to lay on his chest, her head against his heart, the slow even rhythm always lulling her to sleep.

“Oi,” he said, pinching her side. “What’s little?”

Still, he wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head, switching off the bedside lamp so they could better see the lights of the city. She snuggled up to him, smiling, already planning her revenge.

 

Because next weekend, Draco was the one wearing the collar.


End file.
